I See You, You See Me
by TruffleShuffle
Summary: Parallel chapters of Claire and John in detention and then reunited on the way back to Shermer for New Years Eve 1999
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **I See You, You See Me (hate this title but its a great song and gave me the idea for this)

**Author : **TruffleShuffle

**Disclaimer : **I wish to god that i did own The Breakfast Club but sadly, i don't. If I did i'd of released a dvd with those DELETED SCENES by now!

**Summary : **Parallel stories of John and Claire in detention in the movie, and on the way back to Shermer in 1999.

**Rated :** I've put this at T, let me know if its wrong.

**Authors Note: **_Okay, so this is my first ever piece of writing and I _had_ planned to set it out to Magic Numbers lyrics, but apparently we can't do that anymore (_what happens to the fics already with lyrics in – do they get taken off?_). Anyway what I'm trying to do, hopefully successfully, is a Claire/John reunion fic that avoids all the clichés that can sometimes drive me mad. Each chapter set in 1999 will have an accompanying chapter set in the movie like this one. Please review, I promise I'll take onboard what you say, and even if you don't like this chapter could you read the next one anyway, cos I'm not as confident with the non movie setting and I could really use some guidance from your expert opinions. _Thank you!

**Saturday March 24, 1984.**

**Shermer High School, Shermer,Illinois.**

Claire knew it was no good watching the clock. She'd been in the library almost an hour and already her butt was numb.

One hour down (almost). Only eight hours left. _Jesus_, she thought, adjusting her position in her chair, _I should have just gone to class on Friday._

Just as she began to feel sorry for herself, she was snapped out of it by the same asshole that'd been pissing her off since she got here. She didn't really know Andy Clarke, the guy next to her, that well but she'd presumed he'd be able to get the stoner sat behind her.

Unfortunately, her faith in Andy was waning. And she'd had enough of this guy, whoever he was.

"**Why don't you just shut up?**" she span round and sneered at him. "**Nobody here is interested!**"

_Not entirely true_, whispered a voice in her head, _he's certainly been entertaining…_

Andy turned round to face her. He was kind of good looking, Claire mused, _but he's _too_ perfect, if there is such a thing. He needs somebody to mess him up a little. Give him the 'interesting' factor._

"**Really! Buttface!" **Andy seemed too pleased with himself after this _Not so perfect after all, then._

"**Well hey Sporto! What'd you do to get in here? Forget to wash your jock?**" The loser with the dangly earring that Claire just couldn't keep her eyes off retorted easily.

A nervous voice piped up in the background. It made a plea for working in peace but was dismissed. Not even that, just simply ignored. Somehow, Brian Johnson's voice made a complete bypass, away from the ears of Andy, Claire and Bender. Allison heard of course, but she was far too busy watching the trio upfront and their little performance to acknowledge him.

"**Look, just because you live in here doesn't give you the right to be a pain in the ass...so knock it off!**"

The guy, Bender, only she didn't know his name yet, twisted his face into a mock of pain.

"**It's a free country**" Everybody asked themselves the same thing in that room – _is it?_

There wasn't one person there who didn't want to escape something.

Claire wasn't good with confrontation. She'd gone along with all sorts of things in the past, just in order to avoid a scene. And she really didn't like where this was going. _Why don't we just do the stupid papers? Or better yet, lets just all sleep_. She'd forgotten about detention and had been rudely awakened by her father that morning.

"**He's just doing it to get a rise out of you! Just ignore him...**" and Andy half heartedly made a sign of agreement.

"**Sweets**" the guy replied with an easy wit that she knew she'd never get the better of, "**You couldn't ignore me if you tried!**"

She didn't know if that was true or not. But she didn't let it show. She rolled her eyes, same way she had done a million times before.

Same way she always did when trying to disguise her feelings.

_Okay, I'll post the first 1999 chapter up tomorrow, meant to do it tonight but I haven't finished and its too late. I'm not so sure how I feel about what I've written, but thank you for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the reviews so far, and if anybody thinks that I'm writing out of character could they let me know? I don't own this movie – I'm waiting to get the John Hughes Pack for my birthday (still 2 months away), so I'm sat here with a transcript for referral. Just setting everything up with this chapter_

**December 29, 1999**

**San Francisco**

This was unbelievable. Two months of planning. Two whole months. He figured that was a big chunk of his short life. His mom wasn't going to be back until 9, his bags were packed and he'd withdrawn all the money from the account that had been set up when he was born. It only came to $318. His whole life, 10 years and two months, he'd only managed to accumulate $318. That was meant to be his college fund but it would appear that his mom had forgotten to keep putting the money in. _Figures_, he thought bitterly. But the plan. It had all been carefully thought out and would have been perfectly executed.

And now, he was stuck in the kitchen of his apartment with some asshole who was apparently his father. To say that he was pissed might just be an understatement. Time was running out, it was already 7.30, and the man showed no signs of leaving. Instead he was sat on the kitchen counter, his feet resting on a stool. He'd smoked six cigarettes and helped himself to the potato chips that were left out by the cupboards.

It looked like Jack Standish was going to have to pick another night to run away.

"Oh, kid?" the man called, Jack still didn't know what to call him. _Dad?No, that's not right. Too soon._

"What?" he replied with the disdainful voice he'd picked up from his mother. He wasn't too impressed with The Man Who Says He's His Father (until he knew his real name, this title would suffice). Although, he couldn't wait to see his moms face when she walked in to their small, but stylish kitchen and saw the strange looking guy with his expensive coat and scruffy combat boots. Not to mention smelling the tangy smoke that was emerging from the ornamental dish which now doubled as an ashtray.

"What time does your mom get home?" The Man tapped the edge of another cigarette. _Seven_, counted Jack.

"Umm…it depends. Could be eight or nine-ish."_ No, don't say that. He'll stay and wait. Make it later, he'll go and then I can still get out before she comes back. Change it. Make him leave._

"No, now I think about it, it'll definitely be around 11. Or midnight! Yeah midnight. Maybe even later" Jack cast his head down when he said this, hoping to look like one of those poor latch-key kids left to fend for himself. You know, get the sympathy vote. He'd done this a few times at school. He loved to confuse people, wind them up. It had never impressed his mother.Especially when it resulted in her being called in by Mrs Hughes to discuss the'welfare' of her child.And now, for the first time it backfired on him.

"I'll wait here then. Don't want to miss her" And with this, his face twisted into a sly grin. He reached in his pocket for yet another cigarette, discarding the old one.

_Eight._

This guy was like nobody Jack had ever seen before. Well, there was a vague memory in the back of his head of someone similar. Maybe it's him. After all, his dad must have been around some time. And he was fairly sure that the man he remembered wasn't one of his mom's friends. They all seemed like they'd been sewn into their Armani suits at birth. He studied The Man closely. He watched him empty his coat pockets, closely. He watched as he rummaged around the findings to get a new cigarette, the current one dangling from his mouth. The contents were bizarre to say the least.

Sunglasses (_In the middle of winter? What the hell?_),

A lighter (_well, that was to be expected_),

A McDonalds Happy Meal toy, some kind of Barbie thing but with the head cut off,

A blue flyer entitled "Repent the Lord, and Welcome Satan,"

A half eaten Butterfinger

A red flyer entitled "Reject Satan, and Welcome the Lord" (_schizophrenic, maybe?_)

And a single diamond earring.

_Okay_. Jack looked at the clock above the oven. 8.00. _Godammit._ One hour left.

The Man looked over to him, having found the cigarettes wrapped in the blue flyer. Jack noticed that the lighter was shaped like a cigarette also. _Surely that's gonna be confusing?_

" Do you want a drink?" The Man Who Say's He's His Father asked. _His nostrils are huge. Like really, really big. And why is he asking if I want a drink. This is my godamn apartment!_

"If I want something I will get it myself." That voice of disdain was back again. But The Man didn't look annoyed, or even surprised. Jack scowled right at him, and he just smiled a small smile of recognition whilst reaching for the lighter.

_Nine._

Then The Man leapt deftly off the kitchen counter. He began to walk around the apartment. As he walked, he ran his fingers over everything he passed, taking a pen lying on the table by the couch and placing it in the inside pocket of his coat. He examined photos. Not that there were many, something else his mom had forgotten to do – take photos. There weren't any of him past the age of three years old. To be fair, he wasn't particularly photogenic. He had the flaming red hair that came as standard in the Standish family, and that was his best feature. His permanent stare didn't translate well on camera. But The Man looked at everything. And then he strolled back into the kitchen. Jack followed. There was nothing else he could do.

Then it dawned on him. The note! He'd left a note in his moms room, on her bed, so that she'd know that he was fine by himself and he hadn't been kidnapped or whatever. There was no way he was going to be able to get out tonight, and so if she found that note……….he needed to get it back. He could always use it when he managed to go successfully. He ran to his mom's room, leaving the man in the kitchen. He could hear him whistling a song he didn't recognise.

He opened the door and looked at the open suitcase by the side of the bed. He hadn't noticed it earlier and now he wondered what it was for. He thought his mom had said something about going to Shermer to spend New Years with his grandparents. Why that was, nobody knew. Shermer was the most boring place on earth compared to San Francisco, and every time they went, which wasn't very often, but still, all that happened was that his grandparents argued with his mom. At least Uncle Kyle would be there. But this was the new millennium! As a ten year old, he wasn't a big partier but even he could see that it was definitely not promising to be the big event that it should be.

He was still vaguely aware of the man in the kitchen. The whistling had now moved on to another song altogether. He actually recognised this one. It was by Simple Minds. He saw the letter and was picking it up, when…

The front door slammed shut. Was it The Man? Was he going? They'd not even talked properly. That was his dad (_alright, I'll admit it now. That was my dad. That was my real dad and I've just ignored him_). Jack ran into the kitchen, the letter slipping from his hand……..

But the man was sat on the counter again, handling the cigarette he'd set up earlier. So that meant…

A voice from the sitting room and the familiarsound of heels clicking across the floor."Jack? You there? Oh my god, what is that…are you smoking? I can smell tobacco Jack. You're 10 years old and you're smoking. I don't believe this."

And the kitchen door opened, revealing his mother. She was back exactly on time. And she was just standing there, staring at The Man Who Was Definitely His Dad. The expression on her face wasn't readable. She turned her face down, colouring. For a moment, Jack genuinely felt sorry for her. You always had a hard time disguising your feelings if you were a redhead.

"John, get the hell out" was all she said, quietly.

But it was all that was needed to give Jack his plan.

The Man (_John, thats his name_)just lifted up the cigarette to his mouth, taking everything in.

"Hey, Princess." A little smoke escaped from his mouth.

_Ten _

**To be continued…**

**Okay, thank you for reading!**


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